


The Place I'm Taking's My Own

by coldbluehalo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clones, Humor, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldbluehalo/pseuds/coldbluehalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let’s just get through the next twenty four hours, ok?”</p><p>As one, the Buckys all look at him. He flushes under their gazes, trying to hold on to some composure, but he’s never been good at hiding anything from Bucky. Any Bucky, apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Place I'm Taking's My Own

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt on [ipoiledi's blog](http://ipoiledi.tumblr.com/post/129270287039/i-saw-someone-on-my-dash-talking-about-accidental): _I saw someone on my dash talking about accidental temporary clones, and how amazing it would with their otp. [Steve] having 48h with like four identical Buckys. Steve would probably have the time of his life while the Buckys just stared at each other with suspicion and jealousy, right?_
> 
> This borrows a bit from [ipoiledi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ipoiledi/pseuds/ipoiledi)'s interpretation of these characters, but lacks her particular finesse. I made it 24 hours instead of 48 because I was afraid Steve might die otherwise ;)

“Ok, listen,” Steve starts. “This is weird. We all know it’s weird.” The Buckys look at each other warily. They’re keeping their distance, spread out across the room. If they stare at each other any harder, Steve thinks they’ll spontaneously combust. “Stark said-” Steve rolls his eyes as every Bucky makes the same face at Stark’s name, “-it’s temporary. Let’s just get through the next twenty four hours, ok?”

As one, the Buckys all look at him. He flushes under their gazes, trying to hold on to some composure, but he’s never been good at hiding anything from Bucky. Any Bucky, apparently. They all smirk, just a little bit. Shit.

The ‘real’ Bucky - he thinks? Maybe? God, they’re all identical. His mind is drowning in possibilities. This is the worst- the best- The real Bucky nods at him, clears his throat. Like it was a signal, all four of them disappear into separate rooms and Steve loses track of them.

His phone pings with a text.

Natasha: _‘How’s it going? Happy clone family?’_

Steve: _’I think this is how I die.’_

She writes back immediately: _’From the inevitable orgy, I assume?’_ Steve goes hot all over at the idea, hand clenching around his phone. It pings again, the screen flickering a bit sadly.

Natasha: _‘Or wait, do they hate each other? Will you be the innocent bystander in a 4 way murder-suicide? ;) ’_

Steve: _’If those are my options, it will make the news either way.’_

He puts the phone away and goes to get some water.

***

He’s filling a glass at the sink when Bucky - a Bucky, one of them - presses up behind him, wrapping strong arms around his waist. “Oh god,” Steve whispers. Bucky noses behind his ear, and Steve shivers as hands roam up under his shirt. He’s been on edge since he saw all of them in one place, and now he feels like he’s about to explode.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Bucky murmurs in his ear. Steve gives a full-body shudder and puts the glass down, planting his hands on the counter. Bucky slips one hand down Steve’s torso and into his pants, squeezing his hardening cock. “Yeah, you are.” He can hear the grin in Bucky’s voice. “That’s ok,” he continues, starting to stroke. Steve arches his back, feeling Bucky hard against him, and clutches the edge of the counter with both hands. “When this is over, I’ll still be here.” He bites at Steve’s throat and Steve moans. “Remind you who you belong to.”

“You,” Steve breathes. “You, _Buck-_ ”

***

Steve stumbles out of the kitchen flushed and slightly bruised. He feels good, adrenaline thrumming through his blood like he’s ready for a fight. He walks right into another Bucky.

This one looks him up and down, says “Look at you,” with a grin, and rests his right hand on Steve’s chest. He slides his hand slowly over Steve’s pecs to his shoulder, his neck, lingering to touch fingertips to the marks Bucky left there. Steve’s mouth drops open and his eyes flutter shut, and Bucky presses harder. He moves his hand up, threading his fingers into the hair at the back of Steve’s head, nape of his neck. He tugs, a little too much, and Steve’s brain shorts out.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps. Bucky keeps hold of his hair and surges in to kiss him, hard, grabbing at his waist with his free hand. Steve leans in, full-body, pushing at him until Bucky starts backing up, still kissing him. When they reach the couch, Steve breaks the kiss and pushes him to sit down and spread his legs, sinking to his knees between them. He undoes Bucky’s belt and pants and shoves them down. Bucky puts his hand back in Steve’s hair as he leans in.

“Identical,” Steve says, stroking his cock lightly. “Like you’re a clone or something.”

Bucky stares at him in surprise for a moment and then laughs, tugging sharply on Steve’s hair again. “Smart ass,” he groans, head tipping back as Steve swallows him down.

***

Steve heads for the bedroom to change his clothes - or maybe abandon them completely, a better idea the more the thinks about it - and honestly, to find another Bucky. He’s on a mission now.

He hears two of the Buckys exchange greetings in the kitchen. “Goddamn,” one of them says. “How do you get anything done with him around?”

Steve can’t make out the rumbled reply but the first Bucky whistles low, impressed. The other Bucky - the real one, he thinks - laughs.

“Hey,” he calls out in the doorway, amused. “I can hear you talking about me.” Twin laughs echo from the kitchen, and he turns toward the sound of another in the bedroom. This Bucky is on him in a flash, pressed flush against him, kissing him hot and distracting. Steve moans low in his throat, curling his hands in the back of Bucky’s shirt.

Bucky tugs at Steve’s own sticky shirt, mumbling against his mouth. “How are you still wearing this?” He leans back enough to pull it over Steve’s head.

“You’re wearing one too,” Steve points out, sliding his hands under it, along the muscles of Bucky’s back.

“Good point,” Bucky says. “You should do something about that.” He kisses Steve again, and then mouths along his jaw line and down his neck. Steve digs his short nails into Bucky’s back as he bites down.

“Did you have a group discussion about this?” Steve groans, pulling the hem of Bucky’s shirt to maneuver it up and off. Bucky allows it and then goes back to his neck. “Or is it just instinct, this need to bruise me up?”

“Instinct.” Bucky grabs at Steve’s pants. “Get these off. On the bed, hands and knees. Come on.”

***

Bucky swats at him, looking over Steve’s shoulder. “Go have a shower. You’re filthy.” Steve looks over his own shoulder but the room and the doorway are empty. He turns back and Bucky meets his gaze innocently.

Steve narrows his eyes. “I can count, you know,” he mumbles.

Bucky smiles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve gets up, a little wobbly, and heads for the bathroom. The Bucky on the bed whistles at him, low, another echo. Steve shivers, feels goosebumps break out along his arms, the back of his neck. He wants to turn around, go back to the bed, call the other Buckys in so he’s surrounded by them. He wants to go to the shower and find the last one, see what he has in mind.

In the bathroom, he’s only in the shower for a few seconds before the curtain rattles on the rod and another Bucky joins him. Steve smiles to himself before turning around. “Four,” he says, smugly.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up.” Bucky pushes him against the cool tile wall, kissing him until Steve moans and arches against him, rocks their hips together. He pins Steve’s hips to the wall with his strong hands. “Hands on the wall.” Steve stares at Bucky as he presses his hands flat against the tile.

Bucky smirks. “Good,” he says, and a thrill of heat races down Steve’s spine. “Keep them there.” His hips move in response, and Bucky holds him back, holds him tight against the wall. Steve moans again and Bucky drops to his knees, hands still gripping him hard, and nuzzles against him before taking him into his mouth. Steve’s head tips back against the wall with a soft thud.

***

Bucky pushes him out of the bathroom and back toward the bedroom. Steve’s damp and pleasantly hazy, eyes a little unfocused. There’s a Bucky waiting for him on the bed.

“Buck,” Steve breathes, hopeful. Bucky nods and holds out his hand, and Steve goes to him. Bucky kisses him, soft, and lays him down. Steve closes his eyes.

“You still with me in there?” Bucky murmurs in his ear.

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Always.”

***

When he wakes up in the morning, Bucky’s asleep next to him. Just the one. The apartment is silent, but he gets up and pads around it, just to be sure. Bucky is wide awake when he gets back, of course. Steve collapses onto the bed and closes his eyes, letting out a long, satisfied breath.

“Gone?” Bucky asks, amused. Steve nods. “It’s too bad,” Bucky continues, sounding almost wistful. “You’re a lot of work. Kind of nice having a few extra of me around to share the load.” Steve elbows him in the side and Bucky grunts a laugh. “Nah,” he decides, pulling Steve in close and rolling them over so he’s pressing Steve into the mattress. “You’re mine. I don’t want to share you.” He pauses, considering. “Anymore.”

Steve looks up at him and smiles. “There’s just you.” He arches against him, reaching up to kiss him. “Remind me.”

***

Natasha: _’So, are you still alive??’_  
Natasha: _’Rogers.’_  
Natasha: _‘Stay hydrated.’_

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://coldbluehalo.tumblr.com).


End file.
